


Circle Ambush

by Coryphefish



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Action, F/M, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2859686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coryphefish/pseuds/Coryphefish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A straightforward mission goes sour, and Anders gets separated from Hawke by a squad of Templars. In the struggle that follows, it will take desperate feats of cleverness to finally escape and find her again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Marian knocked on the door. Nobody answered at first. Anders didn't like it. They were a ways away from the main entrance of the circle, but even this little side door was too much in the open for his comfort. 

The surrounding courtyard was silent. He strained his ears but heard only wildlife then finally, faint footsteps from the other side of the door. It opened a crack, and a middle-aged woman looked out at them.

"Champion?"

"First Enchanter!"

They'd gotten her letter a week ago, and this circle was conveniently on their way. Sympathetic mages all over Thedas were trying to get their more vulnerable people to safety as the rebellion swept outward from Kirkwall.

"So kind of you to come." The mage smiled as she handed them hooded robes that would make acceptable disguises. Then, leading them down the hallway, she began detailing the needs of the people who were to be smuggled to safety.

"--Something wrong?" she asked suddenly.

Anders hadn't been giving much thought to their surroundings until he'd suddenly recognized an unexpected area, typical to most circles. He stepped through the doorway and looked around. "Why are we in the research wing? he asked.

Marian ran for the door, but it was too late. A blast from the first enchanter's staff sent her flying backward. Templars emerged from the shadows, separating them even further. The door was slammed shut and barred.

He could hear her pounding on the door and shouting his name before she was cut off suddenly.

"Marian!" He lunged for the door, but the Templars closed in with their swords, and he was cut several times before he could get away.

There was more shouting from the other end of the door amid sounds of clashing steel. At least she was still okay.

"Stay alive!" he shouted. "I'll find you again!"

Knowing better than to fight four Templars at once with magic, Anders blasted at them with his staff just enough to keep them off of him as he ran farther down the hall. 

It was soon painfully clear that he was being herded somewhere. Whenever he tried to run in a "wrong" direction, the Templars would close in, or the First Enchanter would rain down fire from her staff. 

Otherwise, they simply followed him.

Finally he hit a dead end down a side hallway. An iron-banded door opened to a stone staircase leading down into darkness. The Templars charged, raising their shields. No room to dodge any of them. No time to do anything but fall down the stairs as gracefully as he could. 

Well...almost no time. The Templar in front was expecting far more resistance than he got. Anders lashed out with his staff as they started to fall, unbalancing the man even further. When they both landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, it was the Templar with the broken neck.


	2. Chapter 2

Just three Templars left now. 

Anders struggled to his feet, leaning on his staff. He desperately wanted to heal his injuries. His wrist was probably sprained from the fall, he was covered in bruises, bleeding from wounds he hadn't stopped to count, and the smell of burned hair was making him nauseous. But if the first enchanter thought he had run out of mana....

"You two stand watch up here."

Only one Templar left now! Anders scrambled farther into the room, trying not to think about the chains and spell-circles he was stepping over. 

"I was wondering how we were going to manage the rite with the Champion of Kirkwall on the other end of this door," the first enchanter smirked as she followed the Templar slowly down the stairs, "but thanks to you, she's safely out of the way...in a far more manageable area."

That's when Justice emerged. It was never a matter of if, but when. 

"You dare threaten me in one breath with the two things I fear most?" The bladed staff sailed through the air and hit the first enchanter in the neck, but now the last Templar was closing in, and he had no staff.

Apostate and spirit struggled with the armored man, but it was a hopeless fight. The Templar's magic even diminished Justice, and it wasn't long before Anders found himself with the wind knocked out of him and an armored forearm across his throat. He clutched at the gauntlet with both hands, struggling feebly as he was dragged toward a set of shelves, unable to free himself, especially not with only one good hand. The Templar reached for a box stenciled with a familiar sunburst mark.

No!

Anders kicked at the box and missed widely. The Templar only tightened his chokehold and went back to setting up the contents of the box with his other hand. He hadn't even called for help. Tranquility was bad enough, but this was just insulting.

Blinking at the static in his eyes, Anders started kicking at the items on the lower shelves. Is this bottle important? Shatter! What happens if we mix in this powdered something-or-other? A forceful telekinetic blow overturned an entire bag of something over his captor's head. The Templar started coughing and loosened his hold slightly. 

Anders took a raspy deep breath, let go of the Templar's arm just long enough to grab a bottle of the most foreboding thing that caught his eye, and smashed it into his captor's face. The shattered glass cut his palm, and his entire arm locked up in a cold, fiery pain, then went limp. But the Templar was very dead.

Breathing heavily, he half-collapsed onto a side table, leaning on his other arm and used just enough mana to heal the paralysis. His sprained wrist was starting to hurt again, so he dulled the pain slightly. Justice was satisfied and starting to settle down. 

Kill them all! No. Find Marian! Wait. (Deep breath.) Two Templars upstairs. Expecting him to be tranquil. 

Anders looked at the scattered sunburst box. The spilled blue ink was soaking into the stone floor. He quickly snatched up the vial and dipped a quill pen into it. Using the iron branding tool as a reference and a small signal mirror for guidance, he carefully drew the sunburst onto his forehead. 

Then came the hard part. Marian was in danger, and he was in the center of an entire circle full of Templars eager to turn him tranquil for real. But to get them both out, he would have to put his feelings aside. All of them. 

Suppressing Justice entirely, he closed his eyes and focused on breathing. In. Count of five. Out. Count of five. In. Watching his reflection in the signal mirror, he relaxed his eyebrows and let his eyes go blank.

"First Enchanter's orders," he said hesitantly, taking a small step forward. The shoulders didn't feel right. He took another few deep breaths, and finally managed to relax them. His arms dangled loosely at his sides. 

"First Enchanter's orders," he said again, and it sounded flatter this time. He walked up the stairs, and by the time he opened the door at the top, he was calm enough to be hopeful.

"I'm to turn in my staff and fetch a bucket and rags from the kitchen," he told the two remaining Templars. "My first task is to clean up the potions I've spilled. First Enchanter's orders."

It worked! Walking as quickly as he dared, he rounded the first corner he came to before they thought to check downstairs. Then he broke into a run--toward Marian and the way out!


	3. Chapter 3

Anders had to drop the tranquil act relatively quickly. Whatever Marian had been doing while he was gone, it seemed to have stirred up the entire circle. 

There were sounds of struggle up ahead. He hurried to join in and managed to stop a Templar from dragging a captive mage down the hall--likely toward the very cellar he'd just come from. The terrified mage nodded his thanks, then sprinted into a dark room and slammed the door.

Enemies either had their hands full with rebellious mages or were on the lookout for the armored Champion of Kirkwall instead. Friends would be quick to recognize and rally behind him. 

Anders quickly put up his hood to hide the blue sunburst on his forehead, raised his staff, and let loose a bolt of lightning at the nearest Templar.

"Anders!" (His band grew as he moved through the circle.)

"It's Anders!" (He always headed for the loudest sounds of combat.)

"Maker be with you, Anders!" (As people pressed mana potions into his hands, he was quick to heal anyone who needed it, himself included.)

"It's the apostate from Kirkwall! Take him dow--AAaghh" (Templars were becoming less and less of a problem.)

"Is that Anders??" (Frequently, he assigned mages and sympathetic Templars to branch off and help people elsewhere in the Circle.)

"I told you he'd be here somewhere. He's never far from the Champion's side!" (What??)

"Where is she??" Anders asked quickly.

"Follow us!"

"She's okay?"

"Last I saw her."

Marian's distant cry hit Anders like a physical blow. He broke into a sprint, listening intently. He heard her shout with exertion, followed by louder cries from her assailants. So far so good. 

"There! At the end of the hallway!" the guide called from far behind. He pushed himself to run even faster. His hood flew back, and his hair streamed out behind him. He reached the door, letting it absorb some of his momentum as he threw it open--and almost collided with her. 

She screamed when she saw him, and it was like nothing he'd ever heard.

"Marian?" he managed to gasp, shaken by the immense pain in her voice.

She took his face in her hands, trembling as she ran her lips down his cheek.

"Marian, what's wrong?"

She pulled away, tears flowing down her face, and brought a shaking hand to his forehead.

Oh.

The ink smeared on contact with her fingers.

Anders quickly took her hand in his and held it tight. 

"I...I forgot about that! It was just a disguise. I'm so sor--mmmh" 

She kissed him. Hard. The hand on his cheek was now behind his head, guiding him down into a slight dip. The hand he'd been holding had dropped to their sides, somehow shifting into holding his along the way.

"Let's get out of here," she finally gasped, ignoring the distant applause from the group of mages watching them from down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished the fic idea I mentioned in this post: http://the-judit-inquisition.tumblr.com/post/103745284873/apostaterevolutionary-tranquility-deep
> 
> Credit goes to http://apostaterevolutionary.tumblr.com/ for giving me the idea of a non-tranquil Anders accidentally worrying Hawke with a sunburst on his forehead.
> 
> If this story was an anime, then this part: _"He pushed himself to run even faster. His hood flew back, and his hair streamed out behind him."_ ...would cut suddenly to slow motion with sad, ominous music!


End file.
